Milking the Franchise
by cogito-ergo-amo
Summary: Riff Raff's side of the "life from life" story. I suck at titles. R and R and enjoy!
1. Default Chapter

As promised a couple of months ago, here is the start of Riff Raff's perspective on the "Life from Life" fic. I want to dedicate this whole fic to RegFrankieFan, unless it sucks, in which case I won't inflict it upon anyone in particular. I've written about 9 chapters so far (the chapters of this more or less correspond to the chapters in "Life from Life" but they are a little off kilter) so it's not finished, but I've every intention of doing so. I own nothing except the plot, the characters and places in which the story is set are all Richard O'Brien's creations which I believe are now property of the Fox corporation. So don't sue me.  
  
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Absolute obedience to the master was the Transylvanian way. Magenta and I had been born into a lower class family, so we had been brought up knowing that we would amount to little more than menial tasks and service. It was hard not to dwell upon the injustice of the class system, especially as we were conditioned to have nothing but great respect for the enviable upper classes. The family we served were Transylvanian royalty, the Furters. They had a single child, a boy, Frank, four years older than me and seven years older than Magenta, my beautiful wretch of a sibling. From almost as soon as she could walk she had helped out with basic chores and, like me, she soon became a playmate for Frank. Having male company other than myself was something of a novelty for her, my father had passed away when mother was in her third month of carrying Magenta. My mother hadn't even known that she was pregnant until a week after father took his own life. I remember very little of that time, other than being sent to live with my aunt for a few weeks.  
  
My sister had never known another male other than myself and Frank. She loved the "games" we would play, naïve child that she was, it took her a long time to realise what was going on when Frank's playtimes began to demand more of her. She was barely into a double-figured age before she had been given a taste of the forbidden fruit awaiting her in her teens. I thanked God that Frank had so far refrained from forcing her into full intercourse, small mercy though it was, it was enough to leave her pure in my eyes.  
  
I suppose I should have known I was taking a risk by so readily putting her upon a pedestal. She was so beautiful, not only physically, but she was bright, intelligent and bubbly, such a dynamic person but her complete lack of self esteem meant that only a select few saw her like this, her true, charismatic self. She was also endowed with an innocence that made her seem almost child-like, ethereal even, she often seemed detached and not of this world. It was impossible for me not to fall in love with her, as more than just a sister. At first it was possible to reign in my feelings for her but as she began to develop into a delightful young woman, her behaviour towards me began to change. At first I thought I was imagining it but her flirtation was undeniable, she would catch my eye then glance away with a cheeky grin, she would deliberately brush against me whilst we worked and go out of her way to spend time around me. Like any lovestruck teenager I played along with her advances for a while, but almost as suddenly as it had begun, our flirtation ended, as if we had both come to our sense. I was completely head-over-heels for her, but she was my sister after all and feelings such as these towards family members were not only wrong but also completely intolerable in Transsexual society. In short, incest was considered a crime on a par with treason.  
  
I don't know whether or not Frank suspected my feelings for Magenta from an early stage, but he seemed to take unbridled pleasure in describing to me what he had done and intended to do with my sister, just to watch me squirm. I was powerless against him, I couldn't even tell him to shut up without endangering myself, sometimes even Magenta. The violent punishments for the smallest of mistakes were readily administered by Frank, despite the relative lenience of his parents. I could stand the pain, by the time I was seventeen most of the skin of my back was only scar tissue anyway. Magenta however was not so jaded and once Frank learned that he could hurt me more through my sister than by direct punishment, my beloved wretch of a sister often had to endure the disciplinary action for my shortcomings as well as her own, which were few and far between compared to mine. This was a heinously unjust system but as a servant there was nothing I could do to stop it. I have never felt guilt so intense as the nights when Magenta would come home covered in bruises or with blood seeping through the back of her dress from the fresh whiplashes underneath. The best I could do for her was gently clean and dress her wounds, the poor girls felt such physical pain, but I never once heard her complain. Her stoicism was an inspiration; my treasured love suffered more than I would wish upon anyone. Except Frank.  
  
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Well, what did you think? R and R please, chapter 2 is on it's way soon.. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.it's short but I actually had a request, oooh! As before, this whole fic is dedicated to RegFrankieFan.  
  
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As she grew older it became more apparent that Magenta had inherited our mother's temperament. Although normally distancing herself from the world and remaining aloof, she could be extremely vicious when provoked. She had a heart of gold but would not stand for her principles to be compromised. One evening she seemed to lash out particularly strongly, Frank had suggested that my sister was of no use for anything except sexual favours, a comment that angered us both, but my first responsibility lay with protecting my sister both from herself and from Frank, by holding her back, restraining her, keeping her from trying to harm him because she was the one who would be given a beating. She spat at him instead. I rarely saw my sister quite this furious, she was trembling with rage in my arms. I often felt frustration at her behaviour and regularly warned her of the trouble it would land her in, how I wouldn't always be around to talk her out of it, but no amount of warning or pleading could have calmed Frank down this time. He had me dragged back to the servants quarters by a pair of Royal bodyguards, leaving me alone with only horrendous images of what may have been happening to my sister.  
  
The hours passed and my fear for her welfare grew at an exponential rate. I knew that the Furters were holding a banquet that evening, so maybe Magenta would be safe from Frank's lechery, but I strongly doubted it. He wasn't using her as a tool to hurt me with this time, this time he had it in for her and wanted to hurt her personally, brutally. This though, once it had entered my mind, would not budge. My thoughts raced through horrific visions of him beating her, hitting her, abusing her and-but surely he wouldn't-not even Frank would- he can't have been that much of a monster that he would rape her?  
  
How I wish I could have believed myself when I thought that, but deep down I knew exactly what Frank was doing to her. I glanced at the clock- midnight, he'd have done it by now. He'd stolen the innocence of my pure sweetheart, my love, my baby sister, and what had I done? I had sat here, crying like a baby, but if I'd gone back for her. . . what he would have done then didn't bear thinking about, as if anything could possibly be worse than this. The thought of his skin against hers, his hands on her delicate body, her precious form. . . and she wouldn't fight back, she would be powerless against him, there was nothing she would be able to do, he was so much stronger than her and had the power to kill either of us should she resist his vile, naked flesh against her virginal frame. . . 


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry this has been so long in coming . . . not much to say other than enjoy! The bad language starts here and it kinda gets worse over the next few chapters, but I think Riff would have sworn a lot to himself. It's an interpretation, and a crappy one at that. Sue me. Wait.DON'T sue me. I own nothing.  
  
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She walked in, took one look at me and I knew. I might not have wanted to admit it to myself, but I knew. I was trying to delay the inevitable by asking for confirmation, but I could tell. She had been beaten up innumerable times before but I had never seen her look in such a bad way as she did then. Her clothes were ripped, her forehead was smeared with blood from a deep graze near her hairline and there was already some bruising around her left eye. Before this she had always seemed so happy to see me when she arrived home, she would run to me, hug me, tell me how she had missed me and I would do likewise but this time she simply stood in the doorway and stared at her feet. Within seconds I was standing by her, tilting her chin upwards so that I could look into her eyes. They looked so different from usual, the mischievous lustre that was so often there has gone and whilst there would normally, even at the worst of times, have been a glimmer of optimism, her eyes now looked empty, drained, forlorn. Frank had inflicted all of this physical damage to her, who could tell what unseen harm he had caused to my beautiful sister? I felt the anger begin to course through my veins and there was no going back.  
  
"He did this to you!" Magenta mumbled something about being exhausted and hissed at me not to wake mother but I was not about to be silenced. Having seen the state she was in I wasn't about to let her out of sight again. Trembling with fury I pulled her back around to face me. She was visibly alarmed. I'm not proud of how I acted, given my time again I would have gone about things differently, but my insides were seething and a part of my blamed my Magenta. I was furious, at Frank, at Magenta, at the whole fucking world. Unfortunately for her, only one of the three was present and so the poor girl had to bear the brunt of my anger. I cannot believe some of the accusations I flung at her as we embarked upon a shouting match, culminating in my sister breaking down sobbing, falling to her knees with desperate anguish. What a foul creature I had proven myself to be, what a complete and utter bastard. My sister, my angel, my everything needed me more than ever and what was I doing? There was my sister, bright, capable, articulate even in the face of such adversity and there I was behaving like a complete moron towards her. I didn't deserve her, I would never deserve her, but I loved her so much, even looking at her in this state hurt me more than any physical injury ever could. There was no excuse for me flying off the handle with her that night, no matter what distress I was feeling hers was infinitely worse. I reached a point where I was too disgusted with myself to speak to her anymore. I held her tightly, all the while silently praying that she would forgive me for my reaction. I never meant to hurt her. I love her. She is mine, mine to protect, to keep as my own, always.  
  
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so that was this chapter. I didn't realise that Riff Raff could be such a possessive and neurotic character until I tried to see things from his perspective. I'm not particularly proud of this fic as he seems to be a hard character to write, but I hope you enjoyed it. 


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